Violet Blossoms
by mascaret
Summary: About to be married against her will to the foolish young Lord Downton, Miss Violet is desperate to get out of it by any means. Will she succeed or will she have a change of heart?


A/N Not an error. I know Violet's mother's maid gave her the broth bowl as a wedding present. Trust me. That can and will still happen.

 _Violet Blossoms_

The modest, lowly violet

In leaves of tender green is set;

So rich she cannot hide from view,

But covers all the bank with blue.

-Dora Read Goodale – _Spring Scatters Far & Wide_

 _Chapter One_

A determined Lord Grantham made his way to the baronet's house on foot. Though but a short stroll from Grantham House, the baronet's house was barely on the edge of being in a respectable part of London. The house was so close to the line, the back gardens practically abutted a local tea shop. Only a city street and a wrought iron fence served as a barrier between them.

Lord Grantham had spent many an hour during his recent temporary banishment from London society sitting at one of the tea shop's outdoor tables admiring the flowers in the baronet's garden.

It was there, sitting at one of the outdoor tables of the teashop that he had as if by chance run into his old schoolmate, the baronet.

It was there over tea while commiserating over their individual griefs that they had become reacquainted and Lord Grantham had allowed himself to be misled into participating in the baronet's latest business scheme.

Ringing the bell, Lord Grantham was greeted not by a butler, but by a common housemaid. The harried looking girl took his hat before escorting him to the library – if with it's limited supply of books it could truly even be called a library.

Lord Grantham had time enough to admire the view of the back gardens from the window and mentally catalog the library's entire collection before his host joined him.

"Lord Grantham! I am so sorry to have kept you waiting. I wasn't expecting you today!"

"I know. I should have written to warn you of my change of plans, but given the circumstances in the city I have decided to move up my departure.

The baronet waved a hand dismissively. "All this talk of contagion is nonsense!"

Poor weather and the specter of disease moving through London was sending everyone out of the city – or at least everyone with somewhere to flee to.

"So I take it you won't be taking your daughters and heading to the country?"

The Baronet blustered. "No. This really is much ado about nothing – I am certain of it. We will remain here in London."

Lord Grantham knew the baronet was merely attempting to save face. He was aware that the baronet had had to sell his family's country holdings a few years back.

Lord Grantham brought the conversation round to the topic the baronet no doubt expected.

"Has there been any word yet? Of the ships?"

The baronet responded without the slightest hesitation. "No, I am afraid I have no news for you. The ships have yet to arrive."

Lord Grantham knew that too to be a lie. Earlier that very morning, he had been to the docks to ensure things were still going as planned with their joint business venture. He had seen the ships – or what was left of the ships – that had been carrying the cargo he had extended credit to finance.

"Another few days. A week at most." The baronet assured him.

Lord Grantham didn't call his old schoolmate out on his lie. Instead, he smiled. "All in good time. I am sure by the time I return at the end of the month the ships will be in and the cargo all sold."

Lord Grantham saw the shifty glint in the baronet's eyes. "Yes, in a few weeks when all this talk of contagion has passed and you return to London I will have everything settled."

Lord Grantham nodded genially. "My man, Mr. Murray, from Murray and Sons, will certainly rest easier once my loan to you has been repaid. I know you are good for the money, but I am sure you recall from our meeting with him to sign the promissory note how vehemently he argued against my lending you the capital for your little venture. He thought the idea foolhardy."

"So he did." The baronet's lip twinged. "No matter. You shall have your principal returned to you within thirty days of the ships arrival – with interest – as promised."

"That is good to hear." Standing, Lord Grantham made to leave.

Halfway to the library door, he turned back. "Where are my manners? Before I go, I should like to say hello to your daughters. I met Miss Lily and Miss Dahlia last week at the Parker's party."

The baronet hesitated clearly trying to come up with a polite way to decline. Unable to, he relented and rang for a servant to fetch them. "Of course."

While they awaited the arrival of the young ladies, Lord Grantham made casual conversation.

"Such charming young ladies. Have you succeeded yet in making a match for them?"

"Not yet." The baronet answered somewhat sourly. He went on to admit. "Party invitations have not been as forthcoming as I had hoped."

To a great extent the number and variety of parties a young lady was invited to during the season correlated to the success of the parties her parents threw.

For several reasons - his recent bereavement, the size of his home, and his finances amongst them - the baronet had not been in a position to throw many parties of late.

Indeed, while his daughters were no longer officially in morning, it was highly curious that the baronet had decided to launch them now while he himself was still in half mourning and as such, could neither host, nor even be in attendance at parties.

Lord Grantham, whose own period of mourning had only just come to an end, having faced a similar situation with his eldest sons had simply decided to wait it out.

It was harder with daughters than with sons, he supposed. With sons it mattered not if they sat on the shelf a few extra years. Girls did not fair so well. For a girl, reaching twenty and still not at the very least engaged, it was generally assumed that there was some flaw involved.

Summoned from their morning leisure in the garden, the two gaily dressed girls arrived together, yet separately. The elder, Miss Lily, strode ahead of her sister.

With her blond hair and blue eyes, Miss Lily was a great beauty – the kind who would turn every head in a room just by entering it. Lord Grantham was certain her dance card must have been full at all of the parties she had attended – at least until such time as the amount of dowry she could offer had been brought up.

Miss Dahlia was a brunette and while not the beauty that her sister was, she was hardly unpleasant to look at.

After their curtsies and the other initial courtesies, Lord Grantham again made as if to leave.

"I really must be going if I am to make it to Downton before my son arrives. Lord Downton is returning from the war and there is to be a small gathering at the Abbey this afternoon to welcome him home."

Pausing, Lord Grantham made the suggestion as though the thought had just occurred to him. "I don't suppose you ladies would care to attend?"

The baronet tried to decline, but Lord Grantham wouldn't hear of it.

"They really couldn't dream of imposing upon your reunion."

"It would be no imposition. In fact ..."

Lord Grantham gave pause as though thinking. "... Ladies, your father and I were just talking about how unseasonable the weather has been. How that and all the talk of sickness has dried up all the parties here in London and caused everyone to flee the city back to their country homes. The idea just occurred to me – why don't you ladies come to Yorkshire to stay with my family?

"As my family has just come out of half mourning ourselves, we will be starting the season in the countryside. Normally parties in the countryside would not be very plentiful during the season, but given the situation in the city it seems as though many of our neighbors are doing the same. Why there seems to be at least one garden party or ball every day for the next fortnight! You girls simply _must_ join us."

The baronet protested – or at least Lord Grantham thought he protested – it was hard to hear over the girls' squeals of delight.

"Of course all the invitations might have something to do with my eldest son's return. At his age it is time he took a wife. He really should have been married by now but his time at war and our family's mourning period have prevented him from getting out as he should have the past few seasons."

The baronet tried to put a damper on the situation. "I am afraid I won't be able to provide a proper chaperone for the girls."

"Your sister." Lord Grantham suggested. "She presented Miss Dahlia and Miss Lily to the Queen at Court. She could come to act as chaperone."

The baronet tried to put him off. "My sister has taken ill."

"The Dowager Countess then. I shall press her into service as a chaperone."

"I couldn't impose upon-."

"How could such lovely young ladies ever be an imposition? Now, that's settled! Ladies, go and gather your things. We must leave at once if we are to arrive before Lord Downton."

As the girls turned excitedly, Lord Grantham stopped them. "Just one more thing ..."

Lord Grantham pointed out an oversight. "I thought you had four daughters – including the murderess?"

Turning back, the two girls exchanged a look of apprehension, but the baronet said nothing.

Lord Grantham persisted. "I was sure of it. It was many years ago, but I distinctly recall having heard from mutual acquaintances that you had had a third daughter. It stood out in my mind because competitive as I can be I remember thinking – Robert and Rose have outdone me. They have three girls to my two boys - but then my second wife and I went on to have twins and I was ahead again."

The baronet's lips twitched. "No. Just the two."

"And the murderess." Lord Grantham reminded him.

"And the murderess." The baronet acquiesced with an expression of distaste.

Lord Grantham allowed a moment before gesturing towards the window behind the baronet. "Then who might that enchanting creature in the garden be?"

Turning to face the window, the baronet looked flustered at having been so obviously caught out on his lie.

Lord Grantham was a day earlier than planned and it seemed no other visitors were expected today because the youngest of the baronet's older girls had not been hidden away.

Lord Grantham inquired. "What is her name?"

The younger of the two girls opened her mouth to answer … but seeing her sister's warning glare, she seemed to reconsider.

When the baronet still didn't answer, Lord Grantham persisted with his questions. "What age is she?"

The baronet delayed a moment before again attempting to deflect. "As you well know, my wife has been dead almost a year."

Lord Grantham knew the other man was being deliberately obtuse. "I meant _with_ her. She's obviously not a governess and though I have been watching her tend the roses I doubt she is the gardener."

Seeing that Lord Grantham would not do the courteous thing and drop the matter, the baronet finally answered. "That is my _other_ daughter, Violet."

Lord Grantham repeated his earlier question. "And her age?"

When the baronet confirmed what he already knew, Lord Grantham asked. "Why did you not present her with the other two?"

It was quite common for the less well off to present their daughters in clusters rather than individually in order to trim expenses.

For the first time the baronet dropped any front of good humor. " _You know perfectly well why!"_

Lord Grantham did a better job of keeping up the pretense. "I should like to meet her."

The baronet refused. "I don't like to tire Violet with visitors."

"I won't keep her long. I just wish to introduce myself. Shall we go out or will you ask her to join us?"

The baronet again attempted to decline, but Lord Grantham didn't allow him to finish. "- I insist."

At a gesture of defeat from her father, Miss Dahlia left to retrieve her two remaining sisters from the garden. Through the window, Lord Grantham watched.

While her two younger sisters merely observed, Miss Dahlia gathered up into a basket the recently clipped flowers, the clippers, the tot's toys, and the various books the older girls had been reading before Lord Grantham had interrupted their morning routine. Slipping the basket onto her elbow, she lifted the tot up onto her hip.

As Miss Violet began to reach out for something beside her, Miss Dahlia stopped her with a curt shake of the head. She offered her free hand to help her other sister stand.

Linking arms, they soon disappeared into the house and temporarily out of sight.

Standing beside him, Miss Lily watched as well. When he glanced her way, the usual beauty of her countenance was marred by her current expression of irritation.

Before the trio even entered the room, the baronet had pulled the bell cord to summon a servant.

Again the same maid answered. Lord Grantham was beginning to wonder if she was the _only_ servant in the house.

As his daughters entered the room, the baronet wouldn't even look at his youngest. He ordered the maid. "Get her out of my sight."

Anyone else might have found the behavior abominable, but Lord Grantham could on this – if only this – sympathize with the baronet.

Lord Grantham turned his gaze on the remaining new arrival.

Though well past the six month mark, she was still dressed in Jay's of London's finest. Though not nearly as classically pretty as her eldest sister, the fiery red halo of her hair contrasted brilliantly with the muted tones of her clothes of half morning. Somehow it made her stand out much more prominently than her more gayly dressed sisters - it made them look dim in comparison.

She looked forlorn, yet resigned as her younger sister was banished. Her curtsey in greeting wasn't nearly so extravagant as that of her sisters.

Miss Dahlia waited until her sister had recovered from her curtsy before unlinking arms and putting some distance between herself and her younger sister.

Lord Grantham offered the youngest the seat he had been in. With a shake of her head, she demurred, choosing to remain standing as her sisters did.

Now that he had the three of them side by side, he began attempting to size them up – starting with their reading material.

Glancing at the basket still hanging from Miss Dahlia's elbow, after reading the titles, he inquired. "Which of you three is reading Dickens?"

Miss Dahlia and Miss Lily glanced Miss Violet's way.

Lord Grantham asked. "Do you enjoy his works?"

" _Enjoyable_ would not be the first word that comes to mind when reading Dickens, but I suppose yes as much as one can."

Lord Grantham nodded finding that answer more than satisfactory. "We are having a small gathering at Downton tonight to welcome my son, Lord Downton, back home. Your father has agreed to let you and your sisters come and stay with my family in Yorkshire so that you might attend."

The baronet sputtered in response. Miss Dahlia's mouth gaped while Miss Lily looked absolutely beside herself at the suggestion.

Unlike her sisters before her, the youngest kept her composure at his invitation. "What a kind offer. I am quite sure Dahlia and Lily would adore the opportunity, but I must decline."

The baronet found his words. "I agreed to no such thing! Dahlia and Lily may go, but Violet stays!"

Ignoring the girls' father, Lord Grantham persisted. "Oh but, Miss Violet, you must come. Not to alarm your father, but my mother is a bit up there in years and may not be the most diligent of chaperones. My two sons that are out of the nursery and your two sisters – why that would make two couples. There is something to be said for safety in numbers. I feel it would be much more prudent to have an uneven number."

"Absolutely not!" The baronet protested.

"Oh but think of it - I have two sons looking for wives. You have three daughters looking for husbands. Why -"

 _"- Two."_ The baronet corrected him. "Violet's health is too delicate for marriage."

Again ignoring the baronet's concerns, Lord Grantham continued. " - Why I wonder if we couldn't make a match of sorts between our families? How marvelous that would be! You simply must come for the month!"

"A month? Oh no!" Miss Violet shook her head. "I couldn't possibly."

"No? Why ever not?"

"I couldn't leave my other sister for a month."

"If you go you will be without one of your sisters for a month - but if you stay you'll be without _two_ of your sisters for a month." Lord Grantham pointed out.

Miss Violet was unmoved. "You make the argument for quantity but say nothing of quality."

Lord Grantham was the only one to find the humor in her response.

"Really, you must join us. I insist."

The baronet looked stricken at the idea.

Miss Lily pointed out. "Violet hasn't been presented."

"Not to worry. Most of these parties won't be quite so formal as that." Lord Grantham did however concede the point. "Should her Majesty the Queen decide to attend one of the parties, Miss Violet will of course be asked to sit that one out."

Undeterred, Miss Lily tried again. "Violet couldn't possibly come. She only has her mourning clothes."

Kinder - or perhaps just more desperate to go - Miss Dahlia countered. "Oh but Violet and I are practically the same size. We could share."

Lord Grantham was certain he had them sized up.

Miss Lily was the hateful one.

Miss Dahlia was the sweet one.

Miss Violet was the clever one - and it would seem the favored one.

"There you have it then! Of course, if Miss Violet doesn't wish to go perhaps it would be best if we wait for another time – perhaps when your aunt is feeling better?"

Having set them up to turn on one another, Lord Grantham gave it one last push. "I will leave the matter up to you three to decide ..."

The girls attempted to converse quietly, but as the baronet's library was not very generously proportioned in size, their voices easily carried.

Miss Lily was adamant. "Violet shouldn't go."

"No," Miss Violet agreed. "But you two really should. You and Dahlia haven't had much interest here in London."

Miss Lily harshly refuted her sister. "There _has_ been interest!"

"Not that has amounted to a proposal." Miss Violet pointed out before asking. "How many callers have you had in the past week?"

Miss Lily flushed. "You of _all_ people should know - it only takes one!"

"I only meant it to say you two should go. Try your luck elsewhere. You aren't getting any younger."

Miss Dahlia looked at her sisters pleadingly. "He said he won't take us unless it is all three."

Despite their youth and beauty, together in their little cabal, they bore a marked resemblance to the three crones of Macbeth.

"Oh no!" Miss Violet protested. "I won't go. I couldn't possibly leave Sybil for a month."

Though against the prospect of her sister accompanying them, Miss Lily seemed absolutely incensed at her reasoning. "You and that _wretched_ poppet of yours!"

Lord Grantham broke up their cabal. In a show of good cheer, he offered. "Allow me to solve your dilemma. Bring the little one along. She would be no trouble. In addition to my two sons of marrying age, I have several more still in the nursery – including one very near to her in age."

He had no real interest in taking the tot - the baronet's conduct toward her had already made it quite clear that the loss of her would be of no concern to him. This one however was clearly his favorite. It simply would not do for her to be left behind.

Miss Violet still looked at him apprehensively. "That is a most generous offer, but no, I don't think -"

"- You must join us, Miss Violet." Lord Grantham again repeated. "You simply must."

With her sisters, he had dangled the possibilities of parties and dancing. For her, he suggested other enticements. "If nothing else, I know you will enjoy my library. I have Dickens _complete_ collected works."

"Poor Mr. Dickens. I do hope no one has informed him."

Lord Grantham knew his shock at being spoken to as such must have shown on his face.

Appalled, Miss Dahlia hissed at her younger sister. "Violet! Do behave!"

Recovering, he laughed. Unexpectedly and utterly charmed, he amended his previous statement. "I have his complete collected works _so far._ "

Gesturing to the basket Miss Dahlia had carried in for her, he added. "And if you like roses I think you will find the gardens at Downton quite pleasing."

Miss Lily, the baronet's eldest scolded her father as if he were the wayward child. "Papa tell him no! Tell him Violet cannot go!"

Had any of Lord Grantham's children spoken to him like that they would have met with the back of his hand – but then he had only sons. Allowances, Lord Grantham supposed had to be made for daughters.

Or watching the baronet struggle to come to a decision, Lord Grantham came to the conclusion that the baronet was too feckless to strike.

"Papa tell him!"

Again the baronet attempted to refuse him. "Violet's health is too delicate for travel."

He would have insisted either way, but seeing the way it stuck in the baronet's craw he relished it. "Nonsense! If her health is so delicate all the more reason to send her. A month of the Yorkshire air will do wonders for her and surely you would want her _out_ of the city at a time such as this!"

If Lord Grantham had any doubt about which was their father's favorite, the hardening of Miss Lily's features at her father's next words resolved them. "Take her sisters, but leave my Violet."

Miss Violet shared not the same attachment. In direct disregard of her father, she acquiesced. "I'll go."

"Wonderful." Lord Grantham clasped his hands together. "Why don't you girls run along now and gather just what you need for the train ride and this afternoon's party. We will need to hurry if we are to make it back before my son arrives. The heavy luggage can follow after."

Looking not entirely pleased at the turn of events, Miss Lily marched from the room leaving Miss Dahlia to again collect their younger sister.

As they departed, Lord Grantham called after them cheerfully. "Won't Lord Downton be surprised to be greeted by three such lovely ladies."

Once the girls were gone, Lord Grantham turned to their father. "You can come to Downton to claim your daughters in a month – when you bring my money."

OOO

Lord Grantham observed the girls as the carriage drove through the village. The two older girls were quite animated in their excitement. Chattering, they craned their necks to see out the windows.

The only time Miss Violet even turned her head was as they passed young Moseley's cottage.

The littlest had stuck to Miss Violet during the train ride. She slept through the carriage ride with her head in Miss Violet's lap. Absentmindedly, as though she were petting a cat, Miss Violet ran her fingers through the curls that were so like her own in color.

As the Abbey finally came into view even Miss Violet was awed by its impressiveness.

Exiting the carriage first, Lord Grantham took the still sleeping tot with him. He handed her off to his housekeeper, who handed her off to a housemaid, who took her into the house to no doubt hand her off to one of the nannies.

The carriage had two fixed steps followed by a not insignificant gap to allow for the unevenness of the country lanes. For each of the older girls, Lord Grantham offered his hand to steady them as they hopped down from the carriage.

The last to get out of the carriage, as Miss Violet took his hand so that he might help her down, she paused. Sounding more curious than concerned, Miss Violet inquired. "Lord Grantham, have you given any thought of what you will do with us when our father cannot pay your ransom?"

Yes, Lord Grantham agreed with his assessment from earlier in the day. Miss Violet was certainly the clever one.

He paused to consider his response before answering. "No. I haven't. I hadn't thought that far ahead."

She admonished him. "You really shouldn't have started something like this without having thought it through."

At Lord Grantham's nod, the footman put two hands on the girl's waist and lifted her down from the carriage.

 _tbc_

A/N Interested? Not interested? Putting up the first few chapters of various old fics to see which, if any, get traction enough with readers to bother editing to post. So if you see something you like say something.

Can anyone confirm the name of Mary's bedroom? I think it was the Queen Caroline but I need to know for sure before putting up the next chapter.


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